


A Series of Goodbyes

by lionoftarth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Lives, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Supportive Sam Winchester, Working through feelings, ignoring 15x20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionoftarth/pseuds/lionoftarth
Summary: After 15x19 Cas accidentally blips in at the wrong time, revealing that Jack brought him back. From Dean's POV. (Not as sad as the title implies.)Cas was different in every sense of the word.He was a literal angel. A baby in a trenchcoat. Purpose incarnate. The most loyal friend a man could ask for.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	1. Leave It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is trying to work his way through Cas's death when he runs into a certain angel.

Cas was different in every sense of the word.

He was a literal angel. A baby in a trenchcoat. Purpose incarnate. The most loyal friend a man could ask for.

_And he was in love with me._ Dean took another swig from his bottle, trying to wrap his mind around it. Think about what he might have done to encourage it. What he _had_ done to encourage it. Thinking about how that love had killed him in the end.

It was too much. Cas was always too much. Too honest. Too brave. Too...everything.

Dean would never have had the guts to put it all on the line like that. Like Cas had. The bastard had laid his heart bare, and Dean hadn’t even been able to say a goddamn word.

_He didn’t know what he was saying. He never knew what he was saying._ Of course it didn’t matter now anyway. It was too late to matter. Either way, he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

And he wasn’t the only one. Everyone was gone. Because that was what happened when you disobeyed. When you tried to be more than ‘daddy’s blunt little instrument.’ 

They had lost everything. Everyone. _The most caring man on Earth. Not many people in the running now._ He took another swig, noting that he couldn’t taste the beer anymore. That was never a good sign.

Cas had once told him ‘good things do happen.’ Dean wished he could go back in time and ask that sanctimonious prick what he thought of this. Where was the good here? For that matter, where had it ever been? But even as he thought the question, he imagined a raspy voice and squinted eyes. Loosely tied ties and sensible shoes. Cas had been so, so stupidly good. _God_ , had he been stupid.

If anyone else had pulled the shit Cas had pulled...Dean probably would have wasted them. Hell, he almost wasted Cas once or twice. But he could never hold on to that anger afterward. He had tried to find a line. To hold it. But there were no lines for Cas. Whatever walls Dean built, Cas walked right through. The things that he had forgiven that angel... And he would do it again. Every time. Because it was Cas. Because Cas was different.

He replayed that final minute over in his head. If Dean had done something...anything. But he hadn’t. He _couldn’t_. He was too slow. Too stoic. Too used to shoving it down. Too used to writing it off as too much whiskey and not enough chicks.

He set the bottle down with more force than was necessary and let his eyes drift close.

~~~

**After Chuck’s Fall**

Sam had gone on a food run, leaving Dean alone in their motel room. He lay on the bed with his feet on the floor and passed a hand over his eyes.

Jack had set the world right. Mostly right, at least. The people were back. Miracle was back.

Cas wasn’t back.

But Dean had mourned him before. More than once. More than anyone should ever have to mourn another person. He was done mourning Cas. It was time to concentrate on Sam. To concentrate on himself. Because Cas wasn’t coming back this time. He just wasn’t.

Frustrated and bored, Dean decided on a shower. Pulling himself off the bed with a groan that seemed to accompany many of his movements these days, he moved to the bathroom. His hair was graying, and wrinkles were becoming more present by the day. Unlikely as it seemed, he was growing old in this life. He wondered how much longer he would last.

Just before he'd stepped under the shower's weak spray, he remembered his soap. The last time he had used the motel's stuff he'd itched for a week, a mistake he was not eager to repeat. With a curse, he strode back into the main room only to find that he was no longer alone.

Cas stood by television. “Dean,” he said guilty, backing up three steps and dropping the papers he had been holding.

“Cas?” Dean asked disbelievingly, frozen in place.

“I...I thought you were in the shower,” Cas explained nervously his gaze falling momentarily to Dean’s dick before returning to his face. He swallowed.

Glaring, Dean grabbed the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around himself. “That...That’s what you have to say to me?" he demanded, blushing. "You’ve been gone... _dead_ for all this time...and that’s it?”

Cas looked away. “You, uh, you weren’t meant to see me.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean affirmed almost softly. “What I don’t understand is _why_?” Cas didn’t seem to have a ready answer, which only stoked his anger further. “We’ve been grieving you, man. I thought you were in the Empty. I thought you were _gone_.”

Cas glanced up at the ceiling as if looking for patience. “Dean...”

“ _No_ ,” Dean interrupted. “No, you don’t get to ‘Dean’ me here, okay? Where the fuck have you been?”

“In heaven...mostly,” Cas answered, running a finger over the top of the tv.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. _And_?”

“I’ve been helping Jack put things right.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “And you...you couldn’t spare ten minutes to _pop_ down here and see your old pals?”

“Things are different now, Dean. We’re trying a more hands-off approach this time.”

“Hands-off?” Dean echoed. “Meaning that I was supposed to think your ass was still rotting away in the Empty?”

Cas glanced down and away. “I would have told you eventually.”

“ _Eventually_?” He couldn’t stop repeating. “I thought you _died_ for me, man!” The angel flinched from his aggression. “And if you thought that was something that could _wait_ , then you either you don’t know me at all...or you just didn’t care.” To his disappointment, he felt tears sting his eyes as he watched his friend.

Cas’s glanced away. “That’s not true.”

Dean shook his head, sitting down on the bed with the comforter in his lap. “Well, then explain it to me, man, because I don’t get it.”

“I...” There was a car door outside. “Sam’s coming, and I...I _have_ to go. I’ll come again when you’re more...dressed.” With that, the angel disappeared as he hadn’t in years. 

A moment later, Dean heard a key in the lock and Sam came in carrying two bags from some fast food place. “Dude, why are you naked?” He glanced at the papers strewn on the floor. “I was gone for like 10 minutes.”

Dean glanced at him before dropping his head into his hands.

~~~

“So Cas is back?” Sam quested, sorting the food as Dean clothed himself in the bathroom. “That’s...a good thing, right?” He eyed the job application that Cas had brought, which his brother hadn't so much as glanced at.

Dean stuck him head out of the bathroom to give him a disbelieving look. “Did you miss the part where he’s _been_ back? That he’s been _lying_ to us.” He disappeared again, before coming out fully clothed. 

“No.” Sam surveyed his brother with a frown. “And I agree he should have told us, but that’s just...Cas. When has he ever been totally upfront with us?” Dean grabbed a burger and sat down on the bed not quite facing his brother. “I would have thought you’d be happy. Last time Cas came back, you were downright chipper.” 

Dean glared at him. “I'm happy, okay? It’s just...complicated.” 

“Since when?" Dean glanced at him furtively. “Did you guys get into it again?” 

“No.” 

“So...?” 

“Just leave it, Sam,” Dean growled. 

He watched as Dean took a giant bite out of his burger. “Look, you were grieving for him. I get it, so was I. But, Dean...I think we need to change the way we approach this stuff. We’ve spent so much of our lives in these contrived melodramas that it’s all we know how to do, and I’m tired of it, man. So...I’m going to choose to be happier that Cas is back than I am angry that he kept it from us.” 

Easy enough for Sam to say. Sam he never had anyone tell him they loved him right before they were eaten by goo. “Yeah...right.” 

“Dean,” Sam gestured with his burger. “What’s your problem?” 

“I don’t have a problem. I’m _great._ ” 

“ _Dude_...” Sam caught his frustration before it could fully manifest. “Look...we have a chance here. A real chance. To be different. To move on. To actually heal." He watched as Dean shifted uncomfortably. "So don’t be a _dick_. Talk to me.” 

Dean glanced at him, taking a moment to brace himself and wishing he knew where this conversation was headed. “He, uh...he said he loved me,” Dean muttered into his food.

"Oh." To his credit, Sam seemed to grasp the situation pretty quickly. “That...explains a lot.” 

Dean made a face. “What do you mean that explains a lot?” 

“Well, the way he was always staring at you, and...and that whole ‘profound bond’ thing. And the ‘Hello, Dean’s,’” Sam imitated Cas’s deep voice. “Like he never said ‘Hello, Sam’. Half the time, it was like I wasn’t even there.” 

“Shut up.” Dean tossed a wrapper at him. 

"So is that what you're fighting about?" 

"We're not _fighting_. I'm just...upset that he lied to us and...and it's complicated." 

Sam surveyed him for a moment. “What did you say to him?” 

Dean shrugged. "Nothing. He was here for maybe five minutes."

"No, I mean before...when he told you he loved you."

Dean sighed. “The Empty took him before I could really...process it.” 

Sam watched his brother take another bite. He could tell he was still holding something back. “Do you know what you would have said? If he hadn't been taken?” 

Dean shook his head. 

“Okay.” Sam chewed for a moment. “So...does that mean you're...considering it or...?” He waited, but there was no reply. “Dean?” 

"I heard you, I just...." He licked his lips. “I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. 

"Yeah, Sam, I don't know," Dean snapped. 

Sam ran back through their conversation in his head. “So...you _are_ considering it.” Dean looked at him sideways before returning to his meal. “Okay,” Sam said softly. “Is that...new?” 

Dean glanced around the room in discomfort. “N...” He cleared his throat. “Not really." 

“Oh.” 

Dean looked at his hands. “Yeah.” 

They sat in silence before a teasing smile tugged at Sam’s lips. “Is _that_ why you were naked on the bed?” 

"I wasn't naked!" Dean pointed a finger at him. “And I was trying to take a shower.” 

“On the _bed_?” 

“I forgot the...you know what? Nevermind.” He went back to his food, grateful for the sudden release of tension. 

Sam watched him for a moment. “What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know, man. I don’t even know if he meant it...like that.” 

“Then why are you freaking out?” 

“I’m not freaking out,” Dean protested quickly. “I just would have been nice to know that the freaking angel who gave his life for me was back topside, that’s all.” 

"Dean...that's _not_ the conversation we were just having."

“Just...Don’t try to make this into something it's not, okay? I’m pissed, can we leave it at that?” 

“Sure.” Sam held up his hands in defeat. “As long as ‘pissed’ isn’t code for ‘heartbroken’, we can leave it at that.” 

“Well, its not,” Dean shot back too quickly. 

“Good,” Sam replied curtly in a tone that said ‘this is going to bite you in the ass later, and I’m going to let it.’ He turned on the television to see some familiar faces solving a mystery and sighed. 

“Don’t you dare touch that remote,” Dean warned, engrossed. “This is what I needed today.” 

Something occurred to him as he watched his brother watch the screen. “Wait...” he turned to Dean questioningly, “ _Fred_?” 

Dean threw the pillow at him. “Shut up.”

~~~

Dean didn’t sleep that night. His heart leapt at every faint rustle, waiting for Cas to appear. Longing for it. Dreading it. How often had the angel haunted their steps in the past few weeks? How much of their grief had he watched from a distance? How many of Dean’s prayers had he actually heard?

He tried to remember what exactly he’d said in those hazy, alcohol-induced prayers. He’d been pleading at first. Begging even. And then they’d become apologetic. How explicit had he been? How sure that the angel wouldn’t hear him?

He cheeks burned with uncertainty. With shame. With hope. With relief. With questions best left unexplored. What was he going to say? What was he ready for? What did Cas want? What if it was all in his head? What if it wasn’t?

He sat up in bed, and finally gave up on sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to get this out of my head. It's my first Supernatural fic. I'm not new to the show (I watched it when it premiered), but I'm definitely one of those people who took a long break. Still, it means a lot to me for a lot of different reasons. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Rise and Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean return to the bunker.

The next morning Dean greeted Sam with fresh coffee and a smile. “Wake up, Sammy. Time to rise and shine.” He lightly tapped Sam's foot through the covers.

Sam groaned into his arm. “Dean,” he growled. “What are you doing?”

“Getting started early, Sammy. Baby's gassed up and ready to go. If you can get your ass out of bed in the next twenty minutes, we can make the bunker by noon.” He put the coffee on the table next to Sam's face.

Sam eyed it suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

“Home, Sam.” He busied himself with his pack.

Sam looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “We haven’t finished the case...” 

“Yeah, well...I kind of did.”

“You kind of...what?” He reluctantly took the coffee that Dean had offered. "When?"

“While you were getting your beauty sleep," he chuckled at his brother. 

"You went to the house?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep so I IDed scary nurse lady, ganked her, and got some coffee as a reward for a job well done." He held up his cup in confirmation. "You should be taking notes.”

“You did that without me?”

"I brought you one," Dean shrugged. At Sam's look he added, "it was a one person job.”

“Dean...what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, throwing the last of his laundry into his bag. “I'm just embracing the day, Sammy. Now, put on some pants, and we’re ready to roll.”

“No, not _nothing_.” Dean shook his head innocently. “You don’t just finish cases on your own. You don’t leave in the middle of the night without telling me...Why are you so eager to get out of here?”

Dean could see he wasn’t making headway. “What if I said we’ll talk about it in the car?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn't believe you."

Dean tilted his head in acknowledgment. "I, uh, I just need to move, Sam." Zipping up his pack, he sighed and looked at his brother. "I don’t know why. Just...Please?" The last word came out grudgingly.

Sam sighed, and threw off the covers. “Give me a minute.”

"Atta boy." Dean nodded in approval.

Ten minutes later they were on the road. Dean gripped the familiar steering wheel and watched the scenery scroll past feeling a certainty that had alluded him for weeks.

“Okay,” Sam prompted, still looking tired. “So talk.”

Dean grinned over at him, and turned the stereo up.

“Dude, I’m going to pour this coffee in your _lap_ ,” Sam shouted before turning the music down. “Why am I awake right now?”

“I already told you. I couldn't sleep. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and that hotel mattress was the worst I've ever seen so...I just want my own bed.”

Sam sipped his coffee and muttered, “It must be bad if you’re admitting your age.”

Dean rolled his eyes. A good ten minutes passed where the only sounds came from the road and the stereo. Any other day, it would have been perfect. 

Dean swallowed. “What, uh, what do you think I should say to him?”

“That depends,” Sam answered as if they were in the middle of a conversation. “Are you in love with him?”

“ _Whoa_ ,” Dean protested, glancing a way from the road for a second. “What kind of question is that?”

“A _normal_ one, Dean, with all the stuff you guys have been through...”

“Nothing about this is normal, okay?”

“If you ignore the resurrection part, it kind of is,” Sam insisted.

“He’s a fricking _angel_ , Sam.”

“So he knows the life...like we talked about with Eileen.”

Dean gripped the wheel tighter. “Why does it feel like you’re pushing me here?”

“I’m not...” Sam sighed. “Look, I just want you to be happy, man, and maybe it’s none of my business but...you always seem better when he’s around.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know, like more invested. More...hopeful.”

Dean frowned at the road. “Yeah, well. He’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, well, he’s also in love with you,” Sam pointed out.

Dean grimaced. “We don’t know that.”

Sam draped his arm over the seat. “Dean, he _told_ you that. You _told_ me that he told you that.”

“I also told you that I didn’t know how he meant it.”

“Oh my god, dude,” Sam rubbed his face. “Cas has been here. He’s been human. He knows what he’s saying...You just don't want to deal with it.”

Dean shook his head angrily. “Okay, Sam. Let’s play this out. Say he’s in love with me...then what?” Sam glanced up at the ceiling. "No, seriously, man. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Sam looked at him, gauging his need. “That’s up to you."

“Is it though?” Dean asked. “Because I don’t get to choose how this goes. Either I blow him off and everything is weird _forever_ ," he gestured to the side with his hand, "or I go with it and it ends bad...one way or another.”

Sam surveyed his brother. “Look, everything ends at some point, Dean. That’s just... _life_. But you guys...you’ve had some of the worst fights I’ve ever seen, and you know what?…You worked it out.” He shifted in his seat. “Now, I don’t know how you feel, and I’m not telling you to _go_ for it. I’m just saying that if you’re both still interested after all that...that means something." He saw Dean tighten his hold on the steering wheel. "So instead of worrying about about what happens next, maybe you should just figure out how you feel, and go from there."

After a second, Dean glanced at him unimpressed. "You been listening to talk radio lately?"

"Podcasts, actually."

Dean tilted his head in acknowledgment and drove on.

~~~

  
  


As soon as they walked into the bunker, Dean felt himself relax as he hadn’t in weeks. He had already hauled his bag down the stairs and thrown it on the table when Cas appeared in front of them.

“Cas,” Sam exclaimed, moving to hug him. 

“Sam.” Cas clasped him tightly for a moment. “It’s good to see you.”

They broke apart. “It's good to have you back, man, but we’ve got to stop meeting like this." 

Cas gave him a small smile. “With Chuck gone, it should be easier for me to...remain alive.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam agreed a little too heavily.

Suddenly, it was Dean’s turn to hug the angel, and he couldn’t move. Not now. Not with Sam here. Not when he knew.

Cas pursed his lips and gave him a nod of acknowledgment instead. “Dean.”

“Cas.” It came out deeper than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. 

“Right...uh...” Sam started as if he could somehow smooth over the tension. “Are you _back_ , back? Are you staying with us?”

Cas glanced at Dean. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Dean felt like Billy was squeezing his heart all over again. “Right,” he snapped. “Of course not.” He flopped into a chair and opened his hands. “Why would you?”

“Dean...” Sam warned.

“It’s okay. I appreciate the offer, Sam. I’m just...not sure I would be welcome.”

“Of course, you are.” Sam ran his hand through his hair and glanced at his brother. “Right? Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed offhandedly. “But you probably have more important things to do. I mean, don’t you always?”

Cas looked away angrily, and for some reason, that made him feel better. Safer. Their eyes met and held. “Why are you being like this?” the angel growled.

When Dean was silent, Sam jumped in for him. “He doesn’t mean it, Cas. He...”

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Dean asked with a glare.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m...going to go unpack. It’s good to have you back, Cas.” He patted the angel once on the shoulder and hurriedly retreated from the room. 

“Thank you, _Sam_.” Cas watched him leave before turning back to Dean. “See, that was a proper greeting.”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to make a note for next time.”

“There’s not...” Cas sighed under Dean’s scrutiny and took the seat opposite him. “Dean, I don’t know what you want from me.”

His face hardened. “Not a damn thing.”

They sat in silence for a moment neither of them willing to look at the other. “Maybe I should go."

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Dean clenched his jaw. “But before you take off again, you wanna offer an explanation this time?”

Cas looked at him wearily. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” Dean stated sarcastically. “Why you didn’t tell us you were alive? Or what you meant by that speech? Or what you’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks besides ditching us?”

Cas sighed. “I was worried that you would be angry,” he gestured to him in evidence, “so I put off coming to see you."

"Oh, so this is _my_ fault?"

"No, I..." Cas gave him a frustrated look. "I meant what I said, Dean, and...I wasn't ready to face you. So I've been doing odd jobs for Jack. We're trying to fix what Chuck broke, and it's been...time consuming.”

“What Chuck broke,” Dean repeated, remembering Cas's initial visit. “Is that why you brought me a job application?”

“No, that was...I thought you might like it,” Cas offered, tracing the pattern on the wooden table while he spoke. Dean felt a spike of guilt for having thrown the papers in the trash with hardly a glance. Cas looked up at him. “I answered your questions. Do you still want me to go?”

Dean couldn't tell him to leave. Not again. Not when he hadn't wanted it in the first place. “Just...give me a minute, okay? I was still reeling from our last fight, and then you pulled this.”

Cas sighed resignedly. “I know that what I said took you by surprise, Dean...”

“No,” Dean interrupted him firmly, “this isn’t about that.”

Cas cocked his head to the side. “It’s not?”

“No. But now that you mention it..." He felt his heart start to pound. He took a steadying breath. "What, uh, what was that?”

Dean had expected Cas to reply in frustration, wanted it even, but instead Cas looked at him with a sincerity that rooted him to the spot. “It was the only way to save your life.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” The words came out soothing. “But...did you mean it?” 

Cas tilted his head again. “It wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t.”

“No, I mean...” Dean looked away and licked his lips. “Do you…Do you know what you said? What it _means_?”

“Yes,” Castiel squinted in confusion, “it means I love you.”

“Right," Dean felt a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "But there’s a difference between loving someone and being _in_ love with them.” 

“I’m aware of that Dean. I’m seen your movies. I’ve...experienced it.” He considered Dean’s words with a wrinkle of his brow. “I thought I was clear, and I won't pretend that I meant something else," he stated firmly. "I never expected you to reciprocate. I know that...that you don’t think of me that way, and I would never presume to force the situation.” Dean watched him avidly, unable to look away. “I hadn’t planned on ever bringing it up, because I knew what would happen. That you would look at me...differently. But now, on the other side of it...I would still like your friendship, Dean, and I don't see any reason we couldn't continue on as we were before."

Panic rose in Dean's chest. He tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. He couldn't believe that Cas had just handed him a way back to what they'd had. A way to ignore what had been forced upon them by circumstance. A way out.

And yet...

He didn't want to take it. He didn't want to go back. He wanted what was right in front of him. He just didn't know how to say it. How to get there. 

"Dean?" Cas looked him over as he was about to be ill. "Are you all right?" Dean found the strength to nod, but still found himself unable to speak. "Do you...want a beer?" Cas asked as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.

"God, yes," Dean breathed out. He expected Cas to walk to the kitchen, but the angel disappeared and reappeared in front of him in a matter of moments, beer successfully acquired. He had forgotten how handy that trick could be. "Thanks," he muttered, twisting off the cap.

"You're welcome," Cas settled back into his seat and watched Dean take a swig. 

They sat like that for a moment, searching for words, until Dean felt like he could breath again. “Cas, I...I need you to know that this whole thing...it’s not simple for me. For a lot of reasons.”

Cas went back to tracing the table. “I know.”

“No, you don’t… you...” Dean rubbed his forehead. “I needed time to wrap my head around it, man. To...think it through. It’s not that...I don’t...not think of you that way.” Castiel met his gaze, frowning in confusion. “Yeah, okay,” Dean agreed with his expression. “I'm saying that...there's something here." He gestured between them. "That I feel it too."

Cas’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Dean confessed, lowering his gaze. There was a moment where both of them were hoping that the other would break the silence, before Dean took a breath and looked at his angel. “And I’m sorry that I let you die thinking that...I didn’t.”

Cas reached his hand across the table. “I...I’m sorry too. That I had to tell you that way. And that I didn’t come see you as soon as Jack brought me back. I just...I thought that you would be...” Cas searched for the right word.

“A dick?” Dean guessed, placing his hand in Cas’. It felt unfamiliar and right. Like his first couple of nights in the bunker. A safe harbor in the storm.

“Upset,” Cas corrected with a small smile.

“I _am_ upset,” Dean clarified with a squeeze of his hand. “I’m still pissed at you. If I’m being honest, Cas, I don’t think I’ve ever _not_ been pissed at you. I was angry when we met, and it just never went away.”

Cas frowned. “And you’re sure that it’s...anger...that you feel?”

His lips twitched. “No,” Dean shook his head, “I’m not.”

“Hmm. I like this,” Cas said, indicating their hands. “I find it...comforting.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, trying to remember the last time he had held hands with someone. It might have been when Sammy was a kid. “I can do you one better.” He pulled on their hands to urge Cas to his feet and navigated around the edge of the table. 

Cas eyed him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m, uh, going to hug you, if that’s all right?”

“Of course,” Cas allowed, suppressing a smile. 

“Okay. Alright,” Dean mumbled, pulling him closer until he could wrap both arms around his neck. He sighed into the embrace, relaxing as Cas' arms closed around him. “I, uh, I missed you, man.” To his horror, he felt tears welling in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cas clung to him tightly. “I didn’t mean to leave.”

“I know it wasn’t you...I know that...I just...” A few tears fell down his face. “It was like a nightmare.” He chuckled forcibly. “And that’s from someone who fights nightmares for a living.” He pulled back far enough that he could meet Cas’ gaze. “And this thing between us...it’s broken me more times than I want to admit.”

“Dean,” Cas started, unable to finish.

“And I know that...that you’re an angel so you can’t really...you can’t really stay, but I...I want you to. I really do, man. I want you to.” He pulled back fully and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“I want that too,” Cas admitted, leaning towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I would like to be here for you...with you.”

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Cas affirmed, his face full of regret. “But...I can’t abandon Jack."

"Right." Dean pulled away just enough that Cas's hand fell from its perch. 

"Not while our plan is still in its infancy." 

“Plan?” Dean asked, using the time to compose himself. Trying not to think about the fact that Cas was going to leave. That he was choosing something else.

Cas nodded. “You know that Jack initially wanted to remain ‘hands-off’ to counteract what Chuck had done?” he tried to explain.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded along. “I think I caught that as he was wondering away.”

“Well, after he brought me back I...I convinced him that humanity at large had not thrived under a lack of celestial leadership, and that ‘hands-off’ did not have to mean ‘indifferent.’”

“Okay...”

“So we're going to end poverty.”

Dean felt his eyebrows raise. “You’re going to... _what_?”

“End poverty,” Castiel repeated helpfully. “Jack agreed that humans would never do it on their own so...”

“So you’re going to...end poverty,” Dean finished in shock. 

“Yes.”

He felt the edge of his mouth curl. “Well,” he made an open gesture with his hand, “now, I feel like a jackass for asking you to stay.” He leaned back on the table, dazed, his smile fading.

“Dean,” Cas protested, “it won’t be forever.”

Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That, uh, that sounds like the kind of thing that might take forever, Cas.” Or at least a lifetime, and Dean only had half of one left.

“Jack is making more angels as we speak.” He placed a light hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It won’t always be like this.”

Dean faced him wearily. “Like what?”

“A...series of goodbyes.”

The statement felt like a punch to the gut. “Okay.” Dean had been right that it wasn’t up to him. It never was.

Cas squinted, a hand flying to his forehead. “He needs my opinion on something. I...I have to go, but...I’ll come again...if you still want that.”

“I do,” Dean admitted pathetically. He had always lived off scraps. He wasn't sure why he had thought that this would be any different. “But maybe next time you can stay a little longer? This seeing you for ten minutes at a time thing...it isn’t really working for me.”

Cas nodded. “Next time.”

“Okay,” Dean agreed softly. 

“Dean?” Cas asked as if Dean’s attention had been anywhere else. “Could I...Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Dean barely heard himself say, “Uh, yeah. That’d...that’d be okay.” And when Cas cupped his face to steady him, he felt like a goddamn virgin at the prom. Unable to stand the intimacy of that simple gesture without the threat of death and violence, Dean closed the distance for him. Cas’ kiss was chaste, hesitant even, until Dean pulled him closer by the collar of that dumbass trenchcoat and introduced some urgency to the exchange. His angel responded in kind, pushing him back against the table. He liked it when Cas was soft and goofy, but he also liked it when Cas was a badass. Mostly, he liked that Cas was made of disparate things. An impossible amalgam of human and angel.

Cas pulled back before they could go much further, panting onto Dean's shoulder. “I...enjoyed that.”

Dean pulled away and watched him for a moment. “But you have to go.” Cas didn’t leave. He didn’t look at Dean either. “Don’t you?”

Cas shifted his coat. “I, uh...I think I need a minute.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed a laugh, glancing at his crotch. “Uh, right.” Though he couldn’t quite identify the emotion he was feeling, it was something akin to pride, and he couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Sorry about that.” 

Cas squinted in his direction. “You don’t look very sorry.”

Dean shrugged from his seat on the table. “You got me.” 

Cas watched him for a moment more. “Do I?” Cas asked in that earnest way that had a tendency to slip right past Dean’s defenses. “Have you?”

Dean met his gaze, feeling the full weight of it choke him. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You, uh, you do.”

And then they were just standing there staring at each other like a pair of dorks. Like something had been settled. 

And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Jack, the ray of sunshine who wears matching ties with his dad and was raised by the Winchesters, would not leave the world as it is.


	3. Angel Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean talks to Sam and tries to sort out things with Cas.

When Sam deemed it safe to leave his room, he found his brother in the kitchen. “So?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

Dean glanced at him over his shoulder. “So what?”

“How'd it go?” He sat at the table, waiting for his brother to quit messing with the coffee pot. 

“It was...good."

Sam raised his eyebrows, a smile building. “Good like...you’re not fighting anymore? Or good like...I’m never going to be able to use that table again.”

Dean glared at him. “Good like it’s none of your damn business, how about that?”

He accepted the cup of coffee Dean handled him despite the fact that it was well into the afternoon. “You’re smiling,” he observed.

Dean took a sip of his coffee. “It’s been a good day, Sammy.”

Sam grinned into his mug. “Good, I’m happy for you.”

Dean lifted his gaze to his brother. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I know enough,” Sam shrugged. “I know what you’re like when you’re into someone. And it’s been a while.”

Dean frowned. “It hasn’t been _that_ long.”

Sam made a face. “The last time I saw you like _this_ was...with Lisa.” Sam watched as Dean’s jaw clenched. “You going to hit me?”

“No.” He made Sam wait while he took a sip from his mug. “No, honestly, man? Leaving them like that...It was the best thing I could have done.”

Sam watched his brother sadly. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“It is, man," Dean insisted. "And I'm okay with it. They’re as fine as they ever were, and...and I don’t have to feel bad about screwing it up. It just...it wasn’t meant to be." He took another sip. "And I know...I know that Ben's better off." Sam frowned. "Because I would have turned him into me. I mean, he was on that road, and now...he’s going to college.” He looked at his brother.

"I didn't know that." Dean nodded. "You, uh, seem to have come to terms with it.”

“Yeah, man. I’m good.” He looked up and gave his brother a crooked grin. “And, I’m sorry I threatened to break your nose.” When Sam only huffed in response, Dean moved to change the subject. “But, uh, speaking of romantic escapades...have you seen Eileen lately?”

“I was going to talk to you about that." Sam scratched his neck. "She’s coming over later...”

“You want me to get scarce?” Dean guessed with a grin.

“No, actually...” Sam glanced at the table, “we were wondering if you wanted to come see a movie with us.”

“Like...as a third wheel?”

Sam pursed his lips. “It’s not being ‘a third wheel’ if we both want you there, jackass. And you,” he pointed his finger at him, “don’t get to complain to me about third wheeling when I’ve played referee between you and Cas for _years_.”

Dean scoffed. “Not _years_.”

“ _Years_ ,” Sam insisted with a straight face. “And if we’re going to try to...to have a life and hunt at the same time, then I think it’s important that we spend time with each others’...” Dean raised his eyebrows at the pause. A smug look crossed Sam’s face. “ _Partners_.”

Dean's nose wrinkled in distaste. “Partners?”

“You got something better?” Sam challenged.

Dean just shook his head. “Your point is taken. And it’s not like I got other things to do.”

“No plans with Cas?”

“No, he’s, uh, he’s ‘ending poverty.’” Dean said as if it were a joke.

“He’s what?”

“I know,” Dean agreed, with a curve of his lip. “It’s a big job, but, uh, Cas and Jack are on it.”

“That’s...I don’t even know how to feel about that.”

“Awesome...if it works.”

“But it’s Cas and Jack,” Sam pointed out. “It wasn’t that long ago that I was telling him not to pick his nose in public.”

“Yeah, both of them,” Dean added, smiling. 

"Is Jack...is he was doing okay?"

"He, uh, he didn't say that he wasn't," Dean replied neutrally.

Sam glanced down at the table. “Well, um, at least Cas is with him." He lifted his mug. “To Cas and Jack.”

“To Cas and Jack.” They clinked.

~~~

**Two Weeks Later**

It had been two weeks since he'd seen Cas. Two weeks since he’d kissed him. Two weeks since he’d admitted how he felt. And nothing.

It was almost like it never happened. 

And Sam questions and comments weren’t helping. At first, he hadn’t really minded, but now…Dean _knew_ Cas was coming back. He knew it. It was just that...with each passing day he was less sure.

"Hey, I found something that might take your mind off it," Sam said as Dean handed him a beer.

"Off what?" Dean asked grumpily.

"Right." He glanced down at his screen again. "An entire family went missing in Yellowstone last week."

Dean threw himself into his chair. "So they got a little too close to Yogi the Bear. So what?"

"So the same thing happened almost exactly 50 years ago. And then again 50 years before that." He closed his laptop conclusively. 

Dean glared from his seat. "You couldn't have lead with that?"

Rolling his eyes, Sam took Dean’s beer from his hand and set it on the table. “If we switch off driving we should be able to make it by tomorrow.” 

With a huff of discontent, Dean went to grab his pack.

~~~

The next day Eileen texted as they were leaving the ranger station. Dean tried to ignore the feeling of jealousy that boiled in his gut, and stopped himself from sighing as Sam replied.

“This sound like a wendigo to you?” he asked when Sam was done typing. 

“I’ve never heard of one this far West, but the signs are right.” Sam slid into the passenger seat and pulled out his laptop. “I want to get some more maps of the area, but there's not much else to go on. We might have to load up, hike out, and see what happens.” 

Dean closed his door harder than he needed to. “Seems like it.” The engine roared to life. “I hate these kind of jobs.”

Sam looked at him sideways. “Since when?”

“Since always. At least vamps and demons have the decency to kill near civilization.”

“Dean, we’re in one of the most beautiful places in America.” When Dean didn’t respond he continued. “After the hunt, why don’t we take a few days? You know, see the sites? Watch old faithful. Smell some demon-less sulfur? Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

Dean glanced at his brother. “Don’t start with that again.”

“If you stopped moping and prayed to him, I wouldn’t have to,” Sam retorted.

“I’m not...” He stopped speaking as he pulled out into the road. “Let’s just get this done.”

~~~

By morning the wendigo was dead, and Dean felt like joining it. They hadn’t slept in a bed for two nights, there was still no word from Cas, and despite both of those facts, Sam still insisted on dragging him through the crowds to see the sights. And while Dean had to admit that some of those sights were pretty impressive, he mostly found himself distracted by how much Cas would like them. The angel had almost been overcome by the flight pattern of bees. Dean couldn’t imagine what he would think of color-coordinated bacteria. He took a couple pictures on his phone and watched as Sam sent some to Eileen.

The next night Dean woke just before down to the sound of his brother whistling softly in the next bed. He stared at the blinking fire detector on the ceiling for a moment before he sat up. 

Enough was enough. Careful not to wake Sam, he slipped out of the room and went to sit on the hood of his car.

Feeling like an idiot, he closed his eyes and prayed. “Okay, Cas,” he whispered into his clasped hands. “I know you’re busy, man, but it’s been weeks and...and I can’t keep doing this. I just...I need you down here.” He opened his eyes to peek around. “Like _now_.”

And then Cas was there, and for a split second everything righted itself. “Are you alright?” the angel asked concernedly giving Dean’s whole body a once over. “Sam?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Everybody’s fine, Cas.”

“Then,” the angel frowned in confusion, “...why did you call me?”

Dean looked around as if there were someone else in the empty parking lot that could share his exasperation. “Why did I...because I haven’t heard anything from you in weeks." Cas still looked confused, and for a moment, Dean wondered if he'd hallucinated that kiss. "For all I knew you could have been lying in a ditch somewhere.”

Cas tilted his head. “Why would you think that?”

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's an _expression_ , Cas."

"I know that," Cas stated defensively. "What I don't understand is why you're so worried?"

Dean wasn't sure that he had a grasp on that either, but he tried. “Last I checked, the other angels still wanted to kill you, and Jack is in the process of making more.”

Cas shook his head. “The other angels and I have...come to terms. And even if something were to happen to me, Jack...”

“Jack isn’t Jack anymore,” Dean interrupted determinedly. 

Cas watched him wearily. “Dean...Jack is...struggling. Even as powerful as he was, he's never had the omnipresence that he has now. Neither you nor I can imagine that kind of insight. He’s...overwhelmed. It’s understandably hard for him to concentrate on any one thing.” Dean got the impression that he was not the first person that Cas had explained this too. "And the other angels...they can’t help him. They don’t truly understand what’s going on down here. They don’t know what it is to be hungry or helpless. They try, but...” he sighed.

Dean crossed his arms as understanding dawned. “That’s why _you_ have to be there.” 

“Yes,” Cas admitted. “I'm sorry. I...I seem to have gotten off track. My point was that Jack is...still Jack, and I think given enough time he’ll come back to himself, and until then...I'll be fine where I am.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Until then?" Dean fished.

“Yes," Cas agreed.

Dean nodded, staring down at the pavement as he absorbed what Cas was saying. “So when you said ‘not forever,’” he clarified, “you _meant_ 'until Jack gets his head on straight'...which has no discernible timeline.”

Cas looked at him imploringly. “Dean...”

“And when you said that you were filling time doing odd jobs for Jack, what you _meant_ was that you couldn’t be spared.”

Cas took a step forward. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“No. No, you just downplayed everything until kissing you seemed like a _good_ idea, and then you _ghosted_ me for two weeks." 

“You told me not to come if I could only be here a few minutes.”

“And how long would that have lasted, Cas? A month? A year? Or am I supposed to wait until you get all of Heaven and Earth in order?”

Cas looked at him silently, desperately.

It was the answer Dean expected. The lesson he couldn’t learn. The hope he couldn't shake. “I'm an idiot," he muttered. 

Cas shook his head. “Dean, there _is_ a way forward here. We just have to find it.”

Dean looked up at him plaintively. “Do you know how many times we’ve said that?” he asked. “How many times it actually got better?”

“No...” Cas admitted. “But I know how many times I lost hope for this.” He edged closer to the car as he indicated both of them. “And I was wrong.”

“You think I haven’t felt that?” Cas swallowed. “I have fought this thing tooth and nail since day fucking _one_ , Cas. And let me tell you...it hasn’t been easy. Do you even _know_ how many times you’ve died? Because I do!" he growled. "And it gets worse _every_ time.” He took a breath, looking down at his hands. “I just...I don’t know if I can do it again. When you go dark it… it scares me, Cas. And I don’t know if I can do it.”

Cas took a step closer. “Dean, you won’t have to. I’ll...I’ll come back more often. Anytime you call.” 

Dean met his eyes wearily. “So...it’s always on me?”

“No, It’s...It’s hard for me to keep track of time there, but...” He looked up at the sky in frustration. “I can’t leave Jack, Dean, you _have_ to understand that.” 

“I do," he clarified with a sigh. "I really wish I didn’t...but I do.” 

"Then...what are you suggesting?" Cas asked desperately.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I..." Dean looked into the angel’s eyes. “I’m not saying I want a way out, Cas...I just...I need _something_ , you know? I want to know if you’re safe, if you’re happy... how your goddamn day was,” he offered in example. “And I don’t always want to feel like I'm interrupting something that's better left alone.” 

Cas looked down in thought as the morning light encroached on the privacy of their conversation. "I...understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Cas insisted gravely. "I know what it is to worry that... that there isn't room for you." Dean felt the sudden urge to apologize as he met the angel's gaze.

"Cas..." he started, but Cas suddenly straightened.

“I have an idea.” Just like that, he was gone.

Dean felt the chill of abandonment in the empty parking lot. He had just enough time to mutter, “fucking angels,” before Cas returned holding something in his hands. “Cas, if you do that one more time, I swear to god...”

The bastard looked at him with a mix of frustration and amusement. “Would you like to know my idea?”

“Preferably _before_ you blip out,” he chastised more lightly. “What have you got?”

Cas smiled knowingly. “An angel radio.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “I...I thought that was all, you know...” He pointed to his head.

“For me," he agreed. "This box has its own private frequency. See?” Dean suddenly realized that Cas had stopped speaking out loud. His voice had emanated from the box. “With this, I can pray back to you.”

Dean let out a huff of disbelief. “So we can talk? Even when you’re in heaven?”

Cas nodded carefully. 

Dean took the box from his hands and examined it closely. “Where’d you get it?” he asked, still thinking through the implications. 

“Jack made it," Cas smiled fondly. "He's getting very good at object creation.” 

“Well,” Dean grasped it tightly, trying to modulate his voice. He wasn't sure why the simple gesture hit him so hard. “Tell him I said thanks.” 

“Dean...” Cas started more seriously. “Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted honestly. 

"Is it...enough?”

Dean closed his eyes and clung to the box. “Yeah,” he confirmed before looking at his angel. “For now.” 

Cas nodded in relief. "I know this doesn't fix everything, Dean, and I know it's far from perfect, but..."

Dean held up his hand and stood from the car for the first time, putting them close. "We don't need perfect, Cas." He put his hand on his shoulder. "You and me...we're ten kinds of fucked up. We always have been, but you know what?...We've figured it out. Because we wanted to. Were willing to." He stared into his eyes. "And I'm still willing to, if you are." 

Returning his gaze, Cas nodded mutely. 

Dean closed the distance between them slowly this time. He let the kiss be tender. Longing. Full of hope, sorrow, and promises. It broke something in him.

When they parted, there were tears running down his face. Instinctively, he tried to hide them, but Cas gently took his face in his hands and pulled him forward to kiss his forehead. As the angel lingered there, Dean closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "I love you," Cas whispered into his hair

Eyes still closed to the rest of the world, Dean muttered, “me too.”

Cas smiled, his own eyes suddenly brimming. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yes." Dean leaned back to create some space. "I'm just...not good at saying it.” He looked away, trying to gather himself again as he dried his face.

Cas took a step back as well and watched as Dean strove to reassemble his walls. “Are you...going to be okay?”

"Yeah, I..." Dean stifled his customary response. “I think so. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you know.” He held up the small radio. 

Cas smiled slightly, giving him the time he needed.

Dean ran a hand over his mouth and eyed the angel, thinking. “Hey, uh...how big a deal is it for you to zip in and out of heaven these days?”

Cas shook his head. “It’s not the journey that’s difficult so much as the time away.”

Dean nodded. “So...if I were to see something today that I think you’d like...?” Dean waited for him to get it.

Cas smiled as the realization dawned. “I think I could sneak away for a few minutes.”

“And it wouldn’t derail your plans?”

“I feel confident in my ability to make that judgment at the time,” he replied seriously.

“Okay,” Dean nodded, already feeling better about the day’s list of Sam-approved activities. “Okay.”

“However, I should be heading back now...” 

“Okay, but before you go, uh...Stand over there .” Puzzled, Cas took a step in the direction that Dean indicated, putting his back to the dawn. Dean pulled out his phone and found himself dissatisfied. “Hold on.” He approached Cas to straighten out his tie and adjust his coat before stepping back and lifting his phone again. It still wasn’t quite right. “Now, uh, think of the bees,” he suggested.

Cas cocked his head to the side and smiled slightly. “What?”

Dean snapped the photo. “Perfect.” 

Cas frowned and walked towards him. “Let me see.”

“Nu-uh. Not this time.” Dean put his phone away and continued teasingly, “You’ll have to come back if you want to see it.”

“You think I need extra incentive?”

Dean shrugged. “I figured it can’t hurt.” 

Cas stared at the pocket that held his phone. “You realize I could overpower you and take it right now.” His eyes flicked up to Dean's.

Dean took a step forward. “You could try,” he challenged.

Cas fought off a smile. “Next time.” He put a hand on his shoulder in goodbye, and left Dean to process those last words alone. 


	4. God Liquor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family dinner ensues

Dean was exhausted. After a few days at Yellowstone, they'd hauled ass across the country, and he had just set his bag down on the bed when he heard a muffled voice calling his name. Pulling the angel radio from his pocket, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Speaking through prayer was weirdly more difficult and more intimate than a phone call, and Dean wasn't wholly sure how he felt about it. “Hey, Cas, can you hear me?” 

“Dean,” Cas sighed in relief. “Finally. I was starting to worry.”

“This thing isn’t plugged straight into my head, Cas There are gonna be times when I can’t answer.”

“Yes. Rationally, I know that,” he agreed.

“I’ll call you if we’re in real trouble,” he said softly. “I promise.”

He could practically hear Cas rolling his eyes. "Dean, you _look_ for trouble.”

He grinned. “It's part of my charm.”

"If you say so," the angel grumbled, sounding amused. "But I did have a reason for calling..."

“You mean beyond hearing my sexy, sexy voice?” he teased.

"Yes," Cas chuckled. “I wanted to jog something by you.”

“Run something...” Dean corrected automatically, sitting on his bed. “Go for it.”

“I think we should have a family dinner.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You mean like...you, me, Sam?”

“And Jack.” 

Dean bit his lip, buying time to think. “Does he even eat anymore?”

Cas did not sound amused. “Yes, Dean, he eats.” 

He chose his words with care. “Cas...Last I checked, Jack didn’t seem all that interested in... _us_ anymore.”

“Jack’s not very interested in _anything_ anymore, Dean, that’s the problem. You can’t take it personally.”

“I’m not taking it...”

“I think it might be good for him,” Cas interrupted him. “For everyone. And I know Sam would like to see him.”

Dean rubbed his forehead and lay back on his bed. “I don’t know, Cas. I just...I don’t want to get Sam’s hopes up. He’s in a good place right now.” 

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the radio. “Isn’t that _his_ decision?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes. Fine. It’s his decision, but...he’s my little brother, you know?”

“I am vaguely aware of that, yes,” Cas stated. 

Dean shook his head. “Remember when you didn’t get sarcasm? Those were good times.”

“Dean,” Cas started in fond chastisement. “Please? It would...It would mean a lot to me.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice that Dean couldn’t say no to. 

“Yeah," he relented. "Yeah. Alright. Just let me talk to Sam first." He sat up again and passed a hand through his hair. "When, uh, when were you thinking about doing this?”

“Soon.”

“Soon like I should go prep the kitchen? Or soon like we're gonna wait for three days so we don’t seem desperate?” Having resigned himself to seeing Jack spaced out at the dinner table, he found himself eager to get it over with. 

“Just let me know when you’ve talked to Sam.”

“Will do.”

“And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Dean felt his stomach clench in guilt. “Don’t thank me for not being a dick, Cas,” he grumbled. “It’s a good idea.” He just wish he meant it.

~~~

“Really?” Sam’s face lit up in a smile. “I mean, I had almost resigned myself to the idea that we’d never see him again, but...” Sam met his brother’s eyes, “the bunker still feels kind of empty, you know?” 

Dean mumbled something to the floor that not even he understood, fighting off the insistent echo of ‘not enough.’ “I’ll let Cas know.” He turned to leave. 

“Dean? Something wrong?”

Dean paused in the doorway only half turning back to Sam. “No, just...don’t get your hopes up, okay? It won’t be like it was.” It would never be what it was. Dean had made sure of that just as much as Chuck had. “From what Cas said Jack sounds a little out of it.”

Sam nodded silently, looking pensive.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll let you know when I know more.”

Dean had made it past the doorway when he heard Sam call after him, “Thanks, Dean.” He tried not to flinch.

~~~ 

Two days and one meatloaf later, and Dean was itching with anticipation. In the meantime, he had actually cleaned his room, a fact he told himself had nothing to do with the Cas's impending visit. Now, he and Sam were sitting in the kitchen, waiting as the meatloaf dried out. When he finally heard the whoosh of displaced air, he looked up from his beer .

“Hey,” Sam greeted their guests with a warm smile.

“Hello,” Jack said, holding up a hand. Sam pulled him into an awkward hug that was reflexively returned. 

“Thank you for having us,” Cas offered politely, setting down a bottle of suspiciously colored liquid on the table. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder in greeting, and there was a question in his eyes that Dean didn’t have an answer for. He compromised by squeezing the hand on his shoulder before pulling away. 

“Are you kidding? We’re excited to see you.” Sam gave the angel a pat on the back, his arm still around Jack’s shoulders. 

Dean picked up Cas’s bottle and turned it over. “What’s this?”

“Strong liquor. It’s Jack’s creation.”

Dean grinned at him. “You brought hooch?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, but it's not for you or Sam,” he warned, which made Dean want it even more. 

“It could kill you,” Jack chimed in helpfully. “But Cas thought it might make the dinner less awkward.” 

“Then let’s open it,” Dean suggested, looking around for a corkscrew. 

Before he could find one, Cas had already popped the top and taken a swig. Nearly choking, he handed the bottle to Jack, who took an easy swallow. 

Dean watched as the kid set down the bottle. “There are glasses on the table,” Dean heard himself say disapprovingly. Sam shot him a quizzical glance so he continued. “I, uh, I hope you like meatloaf. It was favorite as a kid so I wanted to give it a try.”

“Your mom used to make it,” Jack commented. “Or you thought she did.” 

Dean clenched his jaw at the mention, but didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah, she, uh, she wasn’t much of a cook,” Sam responded. “But I bet Dean’s is great.” 

Something about that statement made Dean want to throw the whole thing in the trash. “Let’s just eat, shall we?” He motioned them all to the table and went to remove the dinner from the oven, glad to be momentarily facing away from them. 

Kicking the oven door closed, he felt Cas by his side. “Would you like assistance?” 

He met the angel’s eyes, seeking the calm that they promised. “Wanna grab the bacon?”

Cas’s lips twitched. “You made bacon too?”

“Figured I’d pull out all the stops. Least we can do for the kid.” He wanted to mean those words. And in a way, he did. Jack had given up his humanity for them. For everyone. At the same time, he had killed Mary, and there was no coming back from that. No forgiving it. As much as he wished it wasn’t true, her murder had fundamentally changed the way he saw Jack. And Dean had tried...He'd made the kid a damn birthday cake. He just couldn't get back to where he'd been. He had too much of his father in him to move on. And he knew that this feeling in his chest would hurt the others. That it would drive a wedge between him and them... 

So he'd made bacon.

Cas put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“What did I say about thanking me?” He threw at him, watching Sam and Jack stumble through something that could almost pass for a conversation.

Cas’s brow furrowed. “This is different. You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.”

Dean shrugged. “Look, by some miracle, the four of us came out of this thing alive so...call it a belated celebration, family dinner, whatever you want. I say it’s past time to feast, drink, and...you know.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Cas gave him a slight smile in return before glancing over at the others.

“Hey Dean.” Though his fingers barely brushed his shoulder, the hunter stopped in his tracks and met his eyes. “That miracle you mentioned just now? You know that was _Jack_ , right?” He hated that Cas could read him so well.

“Yeah," he admitted. "And I’m working on it so...” He lifted the meatloaf. “Let’s get God drunk,” He carried over the heavy dish and set it gingerly on the table between Sam and Jack. “Who’s hungry?”

Jack stared off into space as if he hadn’t heard the question

“I’m starving.” Sam picked up the carving knife and started in. “This looks great, Dean.” He turned his attention across the table as Cas poured the God liquor into two glasses and placed one in front of Jack. "Dean insisted on doing all this himself. Every time I tried to help he shooed me out."

"Yeah, because you would have tried to add Kale," Dean explained, as Cas eyed him fondly.

Jack downed his entire glass in one drink before nibbling on a piece of bacon. “It’s funny,” he mused. “Millions of people eat bacon every day, but this is...different.”

Dean eyed him from across the table. “Good different or bad different?”

The kid gave the comment some thought. “Good, I think. It’s...separate. Other people are eating it right now, but I'm mostly aware of _this_ bacon.” He looked at the strip in his hand as if he had never seen it before. 

“Okay,” Dean affirmed, reaching across the table to fill his glass again. “Drink up, kid.”

Jack did as he was told. 

“So how have things been in heaven?” Sam asked after swallowing a bite.

Cas glanced at Jack before answering. “Things are good. Orderly. More orderly than they’ve been for a long time.”

“That sounds good,” Sam acknowledged, watching Jack tentatively try the meatloaf.

“It is. I think it’s something of a relief to the other angels. They’ve been so lost for so long...” He sipped from his glass. “They’re glad to have a concrete goal, even if they don’t quite understand it.”

“I guess most of them don’t have the first hand experience that you do, huh?” Sam said with a smile.

“Exactly.” 

_Which is why he’ll never leave_. The thought was in Dean’s brain before he could stop it. 

Suddenly, Jack met his eyes from across the table. “Cas wants to be human.” 

Stiffening, Cas glanced at the child-god before Dean caught his attention again. His voice came out gruff as he tried to strip the vulnerability from it. “You do?” 

“I...” He took another sip from his glass. “I’ve thought about it.” If Cas were human...that could change everything. No more angel problems. No more excuses. They stared at each other wordlessly. 

“How’s, uh, how’s the meatloaf, Jack?” Sam asked, trying to bring the conversation back around. 

“Fewer people are currently eating meatloaf.”

Sam nodded. “Good to know. Uh, how many people are having a 'family dinner?'”

Jack glanced up at the ceiling before answering. “Millions.”

“Huh. That’s...surprisingly heart-warming.”

“They’re not all going this well.” He took another bite. 

Having resigned himself to the fact that the discussion he wanted to have with Cas could not be pursued entirely through eye contact, Dean ripped his eyes from the angel and rejoined the conversation. “But how many meatloafs are as good as mine?” he challenged. 

“More than half,” Jack informed him neutrally.

Dean clenched his jaw as Sam placed a consolatory hand on his shoulder. “Guess, I’ll have to keep working at it.”

“Don't feel bad. Someone in Georgia poisoned hers. Her husbands dying right now.” He took another bite as the rest of the table stared at him in silence. 

“...So enough about meatloaf,” Dean decided. 

“Jack...” Sam started, hesitating. “How are you doing with...everything?”

Jack looked up at Sam blankly. “Fine.”

“So...you don’t _mind_ being God?”

Jack seemed to consider this. “The me that I was before might have felt differently, but I...I enjoy the way that I am.” He looked at all of their faces. “I know all there is to know, and feel all there is to feel. And since I am _everyone_ I can tangibly improve my own lot by improving theirs, which wasn't true before,” he explained. “That's what Cas has been helping me do.”

He wasn't sure if that last sentence was a random comment or a deflection. Either way, it sparked a question that had been bugging Dean for weeks. “Yeah, but Jack...if you know and feel _everything_...why do you need Cas’s help at all?” Cas's expression darkened a trifle. “I mean, if you have all this power and it’s so easy for you to handle...Can’t you just snap your fingers and make it all better?”

Jack frowned at the questions, and Cas’s expression wasn’t much lighter. “Dean...” Sam warned. 

But for once Dean didn’t feel like it was merited. He suddenly felt like he and the kid were on the same page about this. Like maybe they both wanted to know the answer. Jack met his eyes again. “I know everything that’s happening and everything that’s happened, but...I can’t predict the future. And I haven’t figured out how to change the past yet so...I have to be careful. Every action requires examination and...and attention, and that’s why I didn’t want to interfere in the first place.”

“You think you’re going to make it worse?” Dean clarified gently.

Jack nodded, glancing down at the table. “Even an idea as simple as turning all the monsters human has wider reaching consequences.” 

Dean almost spit out his beer. “Turning...what now?”

“Turning all the monsters human,” Jack confirmed, taking a sip. “It didn’t seem fair to kill them all, but picking and choosing would be time consuming even for me. And while turning them human would save many people, it would also affect the overall population increase exponentially over time, and that’s not to mention what could happen to Purgatory. You see what I mean.” It was a statement. As they processed his words, Jack took another bite of his food. “Luckily, Cas has been dealing with these kinds of decisions for longer than I’ve been alive. He helps me focus and keeps me from doing anything rash, like erasing Honeydew.”

“Erasing what?” Sam asked.

“ _Exactly._ ” Jack said as if Sam had proven his point. “Last week, you would have known what honeydew was. And I _still_ haven’t figured out why I can’t bring them back. And now, I’m the only one in the universe who knows what honeydew is.” He looked at the Winchesters like they might have an answer. “It’s so strange to be _this_ powerful and still subject to the unwritten rules of the universe. I thought perhaps Chuck could help me...”

“That’s a bad idea,” Dean interjected.

“I wasn’t going to _ask_ him,” Jack clarified. “I examined him, and I know all that he knows, but since he doesn’t have his powers anymore, he doesn’t know much. His human brain can’t hold all the information like mine can so now it’s all just...lost.”

Dean glanced at Cas to see how he was taking the sudden outpouring from Jack, but the angel seemed to afraid to even react. Instead, he let Sam take the lead.

“That must be frustrating,” Sam offered from across the table.

Jack looked up at him at the observation. “It _is_.” For a moment, he might have been the old Jack. “I..I’m frustrated.” Dean silently filled his glass once more. “We’ve been working on heaven and monsters and poverty non-stop and none of it feels any better.” He drank more of the God liquor. 

“Is it possible that you’re working too hard? I mean, maybe even God needs a break. A chance to get a little...distance.”

Jack frowned. “There are just so many people. With so many problems. And the trees. Do you even _know_ how judgmental trees are?” He finished his glass.

Sam smiled gently. “No.” 

Before anyone could stop him, Jack reached across the table and tapped Sam on the forehead. “See?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, blinking purposefully. “Yeah. I, uh, I do.” Dean put a steadying hand on his shoulder, glaring daggers at the kid. “What’s up with dogwoods?”

“I don’t _know_. I have so many facts and figures and feelings and still _so_ few explanations. And it’s really confusing. And...” He looked around at them all. “And I think I might be drunk.” 

“You feeling okay?” Dean asked the kid warily, finally releasing Sam’s shoulder. 

“I feel kind of dizzy and...tired?” he guessed. “I think I might have _been_ tired. It’s hard to tell sometimes. Everything seems...farther away.”

“Is that a good thing?” Cas asked, breaking his silence.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. But...” He looked up at them with shiny eyes. “There’s something about being here. I...I _missed_ this. I didn’t think I did, but...knowing what you guys are feeling isn’t the same as...as being here.”

Sam reached across the table and gave his forearm a light squeeze. “We miss you too, Jack.”

Dean nodded at the kid, feeling something inside him break. “And you’re always welcome here, okay?”

Jack nodded, his eyes brimming. “I think I might need a nap. Could I...” he pointed towards the door. 

“Your room’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” 

As he passed by Dean reached out. “Hey,” he said, pulling him into a hug. “Sorry, I didn’t do this earlier.” 

“I know.” Jack squeezed him tighter before heading to his bed.

Dean waited a few seconds before turning back to the others. “So...”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed still watching the door where Jack had disappeared.

“God Liquor works like a charm,” Dean observed.

Cas nodded dazedly. “I haven’t heard him speak that way about himself since...before the Empty.”

“Speak what way?”

“Like he’s a person,” Cas admitted emotionally. “We should have done this sooner. He’s clearly working himself too hard. I should have seen it.”

“Well, what were you going to do, Cas? Ground him?”

“Maybe this will be an eye-opener, you know?” Sam suggested. “Maybe he’ll start taking better care now that he knows he needs to?”

Cas nodded. “Maybe.”

Dean felt the urge to take his hand, but held back. “Hey,” Cas’s eyes flicked to him. “This could be the break through you were looking for.”

“I hope so..” Cas glanced away. “But in the grand scheme of things, it was only a few minutes.”

“Hey, a lot can change in a few minutes,” Dean assured him, reaching across the table but not taking his hand. “If anyone knows that, it’s us.”

Sam watched them for a moment, not saying anything before pushing himself up from the table. “Maybe you guys should take some time,” he suggested. “I can keep an eye on Jack for a bit. Make sure he doesn’t accidentally...kill all the trees or something.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Sam assured him. “Look, you deserve some time to yourselves. I’ve got this.” When Cas still didn’t seem convinced, he added. “If I run into trouble, I’ll call you.” 

With a nod of gratitude to his brother, Dean pulled Cas’s hand and lead him from the room. “Dean, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

Dean continued into his room and shut the door, leaving them alone with a bed for the first time since Cas had revealed himself. Ignoring this fact for a moment, Dean turned towards the angel. “Jack needs a nap, and we need to talk. In what way is this a bad idea?”

“Jack is my responsibility. If something were to happen...”

“First of all, Jack is _our_ responsibility,” Dean assured him motioning between them. “And Sam, the poster boy of responsibility, is on it. Second of all, can we talk about the bombshell that Jack dropped at dinner?”

“Which one?” Cas asked, looking a little shell-shocked.

Dean had a lot to say, but he picked the one that had caught him most by surpise. “You want to be _human_ again?”

Cas sighed. “Yes.”

“Because of me?” Dean asked, watching him closely.

“Not entirely,” Cas admitted, “Though it would certainty make this easier.”

“But you get what that means, right?" He could hear the intesity in his own voice. "That it's tantamount to _killing_ yourself.”

Cas frowned. “That’s not how I see it.”

“Well...” Dean glanced at the ceiling, trying not to picture Cas in that chair with his shirt ripped open and a blade through his heart. He suddenly couldn’t breath. “That’s how it is.” 

“We’ve talked about this. I’m not in any danger...”

“Humans _age_ , Cas.”

Cas took a step forward. “That’s why this makes _sense_.”

“You...you always do this. This is why I was worried before because you jump headfirst into these things, and you...you never think of yourself, but I _need_ you to think of yourself, Cas. Because I need you to be _alive_ , okay?" 

"I would still be alive, Dean," he pointed out patiently. "Maybe even more so."

"But for how _long_? As a human, the stupidest thing could kill you. And you don't exactly have the best track record here." He remembered wrapping Cas's body and watching it burn. And how he felt when he finally heard his voice again. "If something happened to you... _when_ it happens to you...it’s like the world becomes this dark, hollow place. And I know there’s still beauty and wonder and peace out there, but I just...I can’t see it." He glanced at the ceiling, feeling his eyes sting. "You make everything so much more, Cas, and I just...I don’t want to lose that again. I _can’t_.” He had said it before, but he wasn't sure if Cas had understood it. He wasn't sure he understood it now.

The angel stepped closer, cupping his face. “Who says you will?”

Dean retreated a pace, letting his hand fall. “That’s what being human _is_ , Cas. It’s losing the things you care about one by one until there’s nothing left. You weren’t human long enough to really learn that lesson, but trust me...that’s it. And I know you want to taste a PBJ again, but...I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

Cas squared his jaw. “What you mean is...you’re not sure if _you’re_ worth it,” he challenged, taking another step forward. This time, Dean didn’t back away. “But _I’m_ sure, Dean. This is what I want. What I’ve wanted for years now. I like how I feel as a human. I may not be as powerful or as useful to the universe, but I see and experience things that I’d only ever witnessed before. Angels...we’re meant to safe guard life, not participate in it, and I...I want to do more. Not just for you, but for me. For both of us.” He moved even closer, putting a hand on his chest. “I want to be human, Dean. I want to eat and drink and...and fuck.” He searched Dean's face, waiting.

It still wasn't what Dean would have chosen, but he could see that Cas had thought about it. That it wasn't just about him. And in the end, who was Dean to say no? After a moment of consideration, Dean pulled the angel into a kiss that was neither hesitant nor soft, claiming Cas in a way that he’d rarely allowed himself. He backed the angel up into a wall step by step, and murmured, “I’ve never heard you say fuck.” 

“I...” Cas struggled for breath as Dean kissed his neck, finding the spots and pressures that made him groan. “Clearly, I should say it more often.”

Grabbing him with both hands, Dean pushed him backwards onto the bed and stood over him, between his legs, placing a hand on his chest when he made to rise. “Do you have time to do this?” he checked before they went further.

“I don’t care,” Cas rasped honestly. 

“Ever done it with a dude before?” Dean asked teasingly, his hand still pressing Cas into the mattress.

“You know I haven’t.” Cas cocked his head to the side at the question. “Have _you_?”

Dean gave him a cocky grin. “Once or twice.”

With a growl, Cas collapsed Dean’s arm at the elbow and rolled until the human found himself on his back, a little dizzy and fully straddled. Dean swallowed as the glowering angel started tugging at his shirt. “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everything! Hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> P.S. I don't really do smut so...that's not happening. Just so you know.


End file.
